Ketchikan Alaska, May 19 - 24, 2015

Leaving Venn Passage - So Bleak

 

Dixon Entrance - calm, but still bleak

It’s 5 AM and no fog!  This is the first morning of the past three without fog and I, in particular, am very happy we do not have to navigate Venn Passage, a narrow, twisty, very shallow and sharp turns kind of passage – like so many of them are – in the fog.  Now we can actually see our scary passage and be appropriately frightened.  But it goes well.



We're Not Alone

Next we face our last large crossing of turbulent waters – Dixon Entrance.  It is glassy calm...  and that goes well. 



Eight hours later, as we approach Ketchikan, the sun bursts out, a choir of angels sings and the celestial heavens chime in….  well, at least that’s what it feels like now that we have safely and successfully made it here.  The first things we notice are the snowcapped mountains, which we never saw in 2012 due to all the rain and fog.  But here they are, beautiful. 



Approaching Ketchikan

We've been here for 5 days, all of them warm and sunny.  Unfortunately, I didn’t plan on sunscreen.  Plus, all my short sleeved tees and sandals are buried in the bilge, waiting for August in the Gulf Islands and the Sunshine Coast.  Where is the atmospheric rain for which I have boots?  The cold for my cute fleece-lined leggings.   It’s so warm and sunny I feel like I’m in southern Florida. 
 

Ketchikan

One night we actually have rain and a thunderstorm. With lightning! “Unheard of.”  The lightning sparks a forest fire in the rain forest. “That never happens,” says the National Forest Ranger we meet – and he should know, as his department oversees over 17 million acres – yes, million, in SE Alaska.  They can’t even send in some hunky Smoke Jumpers to get the fire under control because it is so remote and inaccessible.  They are monitoring it.



Cruise Ships Galore

The main thing about Ketchikan is the cruise ships.  This town, of approximately 13,000, created an entire economy based on them. The downtown is completely and exclusively geared to the tourists.  The local newspapers print the daily schedules of the ships, including the passenger count of each one.  If the 3 - 5 daily ships are in, stores are open. When all the ships leave for the  day – anywhere between 2 PM –  5PM -  the streets roll up and the lights go off.  You’d think you were in a ghost town. 

 

 And how do the locals feel about this intrusion?  This bumper sticker sums it up.  Clearly, like a lone deer in the middle of the field on the first day of hunting season, we must camouflage ourselves.  No camera draped around our necks, no waving around a street map, no asking where anything is.

I must be successful at this because within 24 hours of realizing that my life depends on not being identified as a tourist, a local I am casually chatting with tells me she can’t wait till August when the tourists leave.  Or maybe she knew full well I am one of those people.  But for the most part, the residents seem very friendly.  One local man even offered to let us use his truck to pick up our guests from the airport.  I don't think he has any bumper stickers.



Tide In

Some readers have asked if we have heard anything from the couple whose ship was sinking. We are happy to report that they are fine.  The Canadian Coast Guard towed them (for 8 + hours) to safety.  Parts were ordered, parts were delayed, but ultimately the ship was fixed and they arrived in Ketchikan yesterday.  We had a lovely dinner on their boat last night - margaritas and shrimp enchiladas  -  celebrating their arrival in Alaska.


Tide Out

Sunset in the Ketchikan Harbor